Thunder and Lightening
by EllieShelly
Summary: During a terrible thunderstorm, Cuddy and House are struck by lightening...and end up in each other's bodies. Chaos, calamity and catastrophe ensue as Cuddy has to be the brilliant diagnostician, and House has to be the Dean of Medicine. *Title Changed!*
1. Chapter 1

A/N: There is no Lucas or Rachel in this story. Enjoy! :)

* * *

It was a dark and stormy night in Princeton, the clouds were and black and raging and lightening kept streaking the sky every few minutes. It had been going all day, since the first pitter patter of rain early that morning. Thunder rumbled though and the now pouring rain was creating a rhythmic drumming on the roof.

Cuddy sat at her desk, signing file after file, trying to get as much done before she braved the rain to get to her car. Not only was she wearing open-toed shoes but they were also suede, and she had managed to forget an umbrella this morning, due to it only being a drop of two of rain and how many malpractice suits she was trying to settle simultaneously. Four, by the way - one for the head of the surgical staff, and three for House. No surprise there.

She sighed as she glanced at the clock. It was half past nine, and the storm was still raging. She grimaced at the thought of running through the car park to get to her car... Especially as her space was in the E lot today. Usually, she had the best space in the parking lot - being the Dean had some perks - but today there was flooding in some of the other prime spots, which naturally meant that Cuddy would end up giving up her space.

House's space was flooded, therefore he took Cuddy's, and she couldn't be bothered to argue before her morning coffee had been ingested.

Speaking of House... She hadn't had a call from any member of his team or another staff member to complain about House's antics in a few days, which in itself was suspicious. And anyway, she'd been working for four hours straight with no break, she could use a quick meander up to the diagnostic department.

Striding with purpose she left her office and made her way up to the personnel floors. The lack of complaints about him were definitely odd, and she couldn't help but find the possibility of him being hard at work deeply suspicious. Heels clicking across the linoleum floor, she swung around the doorframe, ready to deliver a witty remark about House's oddly "good" behaviour.

But, no such thing was possible, as his office was empty. Both the inner and outer offices. She frowned and walked to his desk, sifting through the assorted papers. TV bills - including inordinate amounts for "adult entertainment" - and a weird note saying "It's not Lupus!" and..._another _subpoena? She sighed. That was another three hours work right there. And it would _really _help if he actually told her about them, rather than her having to find out by getting an angry phone call from a lawyer, complaining about how House was late for court, when the diagnostician in question was napping peacefully in his office, or the clinic, or the ER... Or just about anywhere to get out of doing his job.

She made a mental note to reprimand him later about hiding the subpoena...but that of course hinged on her actually being able to find him. Something which didn't seem probable since nowhere had mentioned being annoyed by him, which obviously meant that no one had seen him, as the two were mutually exclusive.

She prepared to page House, then almost laughed at herself. Of course there was no way that House would answer. Instead, she paged Foreman, knowing that he would answer no matter what.

Almost immediately, she got a reply. _On the roof. _

She furrowed her eyebrows. She knew that House would often make his team conduct their differentials in random places - MRI suites, boardrooms, the clinic, outside occasionally - but the roof? That was odd even for House. The only reason to go up there was to get to the helipad and House never needed the helipad _and _unless you had a gurney you had to walk up twenty stairs to get there, something House wouldn't do for fun.

Nevertheless, this was just another strike on the chart of why something he was up to something suspicious.

She made her way to the roof elevator - as she was the Dean, she got to use it without a gurney or a dying patient - and could hear the thunder still rumbling. It had been raining for _eons _and it was still thundering like a herd of elephants were trampling across the sky. God knows what _possible _reason House could come up with for being on the roof.

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open, revealing a sight that reminded Cuddy of the apocalypse. Black clouds raged, rain shot down and in the midst of the chaos Cuddy could see a small group of people who looked distinctly like a diagnostician and his abused fellows huddling together, with one of them shouting something.

"House!" She shouted, braving the wind to stumble over to them. "What the _hell _are you doing?"

"Diagnosing!" He shouted back, sodden to the skin. All of them looked frightful, dripping wet with their hair plastered to their heads... And they all looked thoroughly miserable. By the shivers they were eliciting, Cuddy assumed they'd been out there for quite sometime, explaining the odd absence of annoyed staff.

"Out here?" She yelled, frowning.

"Yeah," it looked like he mouthed, when really he probably was just speaking normally.

she shook her head exasperatedly, feeling her clothes dampen and begin to stick to her slick skin. "Go inside," she instructed Taub, Thirteen and Foreman, who didn't need to be told twice. Within two seconds they'd leapt up and were running for the doors, probably the only time they didn't question her authority over House's.

"What are _you_ doing?" House shouted, "my patient might die if we don't diagnose him in the next few hours!"

"Then go and diagnose him," she replied, "_inside._"

"But - " He started, no doubt about to supply her with a pointless and convoluted answer.

"No buts!" She interrupted, "go inside _now _unless you can give me _one _good reason why you should be out here."

He paused, the wind and rain whipping at his skin and clothes. "Lightening is cool." He said lamely.

She gave him an unamused look. "Lightening is _cool?_ That's the best you can come up with."

"Trust me," he warned, "it's better for the hospital's liability if you don't know the real reason."

"I assumed as much," she replied, watching as House went to unhook his cane from the metal pipe he'd hooked it over. But, thanks to the rain, the floor was slippery, even more so for a cripple. And so Cuddy watched as House toppled over, heading straight for the giant electricity pylon that was erected on the roof.

"House!" She shrieked, knowing that the pylon was a huge target for lightening strike during storms, and not liking how close and often the flashes were becoming. That, and, if he hit the pylon, he could be electrocuted. There was also that _small _problem.

She leapt forward to try and steady him, but the pool of water caught her too, the shiny bottom of her new heels skidding into him, so they that crashed together into the gate protecting the pylon - which had never been that secure, Cuddy assumed - and then continued to crash, right on through. Then, an amazing coincidence, as their two bodies collided with the hunk of electrified metal a fork lightening jumped out of the sky and locked onto the pylon, blinding the both of them.

From the moment they hit the buzzing pylon neither of them could remember anything, except the white light blinding their retinas and knocking them unconscious... Though it might have been the electricity that did that.

.

House opened his eyes, his retinas having to adjust to the bright lights of what he recognised as the ICU - a place he was only too well acquainted with - but doing so quickly, thankfully. He blinked a few times, trying to gauge some notion of what happened. He remembered the roof, the storm and then being hit by lightening...or crashing into a pylon that was being hit by lightening, either way ends up with unconscious on the floor.

Oh, goody.

Swallowing and pushing himself up, feeling better already - who said that lightening could be fatal? - he glanced down at his hospital gown swathed body. And the first thing he thought was: Nice rack.

Woah, hold up a minute. He had a _rack? _

Pulling the gown further down, he caught a glimpse of his pair. There they were, in all the pink, squishy, breast-y glory. He blinked. He _must _be dreaming. Must be. Otherwise...

He noticed Wilson standing on the other side of the room, back to him. "Wilson!" He called out, "what the hell did you do to me?"

Wait. Why did he sound so feminine?

Wilson frowned, "I didn't do anything. You did this all to yourself."

"Did _what_?" He asked, a little panicked. Leaning over he grabbed a bedpan and stared at his reflection.

Cuddy stared back.

What the fuck...? Eyes widening, he glanced at the adjacent ICU bed. There, un-fucking-believably, was himself, sleeping peacefully.

He was...in Cuddy's body?

He was _in _Cuddy's body.

He was in _Cuddy's _body!

Holy shit.

"Oh my God," he breathed, running a hand down his new acquired body. "This is impossible."

"What is?" Wilson asked. "It's not uncommon to survive a lightening strike. Grabbing a pylon on the other hand... That's rarer, but you two both seem to be fine. Stupid, but fine." He broke off when he saw House's expression. "Lisa? Are you okay?"

No. He was most certainly _not _okay. Looking over at...himself? Cuddy? Who knew? He wondered if this was maybe a beautiful drug-induced hallucination... Or whether something impossible had happened to the two of them.

Something even _he _could not explain.

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A/N2: I know, I know, but the idea grabbed me :) If you want me to continue, review! x


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Oh my God, SO sorry this took so long. Real Life got a tad hectic :L But anyways, here it is!

Just a quick note, I have decided to change the title. As it shows, it's now Thunder and Lightening. Enjoy, and cyber cookies for those who review :)

* * *

As Cuddy comes out of her subconscious, the first thing she notices is the most horrible, blinding pain in her leg. As soon as she feels it, she lets out a groan and reaches her hand down, massaging it lightly. Then she frowns, realising that her thighs have ballooned over night. Squeezing again, she shifts her hips slightly and then feels something odd... Something shifting between her legs.

Moving her hand over... She grasps a penis.

Her eyes shoot and open and she lets out a yelp. What? She pushed up off the bed and peers down, through the green fabric of the hospital gown. And, sure enough, there is something dangly, and suspiciously penis-like.

Wow. It's big too.

She then glances at her arms. God, they're hairy. Grimacing in disgust she thinks about how she's never had arms this hairy, not at any point in her life. Actually she never had any of this, or arms this thick, or a penis, or...stubble?

Clearing her throat, she gazes around the room. Standard ICU room - so she hasn't been committed and heavily drugged so she doesn't remember choosing a sex change operation... Or having someone choose it for her.

"House!" She barks, and then frowns at how deep her voice is. She assumes that it must be from sleep, or sedation... Actually, it didn't just sound deep, it sounded like...

House. Why the _fuck _does she sound like House? Testing, she says, "that top makes you look like a prostitute."

Oh. Dear. God.

She shoots up from her lying position and run a hand through her new short, bristly hair. She runs callous fingers across stubble and feels the bullet scar on her - his? - neck. As she continues down her body, her heart racing, she notices the inherent absence of breasts.

Moving her torso experimentally, she raises her eyebrows as no "funbags" move with her. Having had breasts of some kind since she was twelve, not having them anymore certainly is unimaginably odd... Actually so is all of this.

Gazing across the room, she picks up a bedpan and stares at her reflection. Her mouth settles into an "o" shape and she utterly speechless. She must be dreaming. She _must _be. There's is _no way _that she can be here, in House's body. This kind of thing happens in lame TV shows, and movies. Not in real life.

Feeling a sense of panic well up in her stomach, she sees a shadow fall across the ICU room. Eyes wide, she watches as her own body strides across the room - barefoot - and grinning inanely. She is completely lost as herself comes and stands in front of her... She has no idea what to do.

After a moment, she forces out, "what happened to your - my - shoes?"

"They were slowing me down," House shrugged. "And they made it harder for me to reach your legs."

"House?" She said apprehensively, begging for it not to be so.

"Yes, Cuddy?" Her own voice replied, then let out a girlish giggle. "Oh House, you are _so _handsome! And brilliant. And your penis is _sooooo -_ "

"Enough!" Cuddy silenced, swatting his arm. "This isn't funny! What the_ hell_ is going on?"

"Well," he explains, manipulating her voice so it's throaty and sultry, "it appears that I am inside you." He pauses. "And not in a good way."

Cuddy opened her mouth to retort, but House beat her to it, "actually, it's pretty great in here. I now have an all access pass to all your fun parts."

Just to prove it, as if she didn't believe him, he squeezed her breasts together and leaned forward, showing her just how impressive he could make her cleavage. "Yes," she replied, voice dripping with sarcasm, "my breasts are _fascinating._"

In her peripheral vision she could see people wandering the halls, and the last thing she wanted right now was someone to walk in on her squeezing her breasts for House. Sure he may be in a hospital bed, but he'd been in a hospital bed many times before and not once had she provided in-bed entertainment.

"House," she threatened, throwing the covers back, "let go of my breasts."

He raised a hand to his lips with "I've been naughty" expression on his face. Squeezing them tighter, he challenged, "make me."

Blowing out a breath she swung her legs out of bed and stood up.

Then, she fell over.

The leg pain was _excruciating. _Throbbing waves of pain shot through her limb as she lay on the floor. She clutched at it helplessly, tears shooting to her eyes. House stood there - having let go of the twins - and watched her ambivalently. When he saw the tears, he scoffed. "Don't _cry._"

She stared at him incredulously. "It _hurts._"

"Oh, does it?" He replied snidely, obviously with little or no sympathy. She watched him carefully, gauging his reaction to her pain. While she could see the corners of his eyes crinkle - signifying that he did feel just the _tiniest _bit of empathy toward her - his face remained mainly impassive. She locked eyes with him for a moment, before shutting her eyes tightly and riding out the next wave of pain.

"D-d-do you h-have anything," she exhaled forcefully, "for it?"

"Me?" He pointed to his chest. "No. But, you _might _have something in _your _blazer pocket."

Cuddy stared around the room. She wasn't wearing a blazer, or any clothes at all, just the regulation hospital gown. Eyes spinning wildly, desperately trying to locate some sort of pain relief, her gaze settled on a neatly folded pile of clothes at the end of the bed.

She stuck an arm up, but fell short in terms of reaching it. "Damn," she hissed, attempting to put weight on her leg but failing.

House watched this display, half amusement and half pity. Yes, seeing Cuddy like this - helpless, for once - was kind of funny, in a perverse way. But... He wasn't seeing Cuddy. No, he was watching himself. He was watching himself writhe around on the floor in pain... And while he knew that he couldn't feel it - evident by the utterly amazing absence of pain in his right leg - he could imagine it. And the last thing he wanted while he got to take a holiday in Cuddy's hot little body was to be reminded of his own pathetic-ness. So, charitably, he reached over and tossed the jacket down to her.

"Thank you," she rasped, pulling the bottle of Ibuprofen out and taking two pills dry.

As she leaned against the bed frame, being watched by a superior looking House, she just concentrated on her breathing. She knew it would take twenty minutes or so for the painkillers to kick in so she'd just have to wait until then.

However, she may have been in pain, but that didn't mean that she couldn't explore this. "House," she said more evenly, "how did this happen?"

He shrugged. "Beats me."

"You don't care?" She asked incredulously.

He shrugged again, infuriatingly. "Guess not," he replied, as if he'd only just realised it. "But I can see why you would. I've upgraded, and you... well, haven't." He smirked. "Plus, you're stuck with a bum leg and I've got the girls. So... I guess I don't mind." He finished, and Cuddy just stared.

"I don't want to be you," she grumbled. "I like being me."

"I can see why," he agreed. "Though I honestly can't understand how you get any work done with these lovelies right under your nose."

"It's an acquired skill," she muttered, reaching out a hand and getting him to pull her up. Awkwardly, she tested some weight on her leg. She placed gentle pressure, and smiled when it held. But, inevitably, then she tried to walk. And as soon as she attempted as step, she nearly collapsed again.

Thank God House was there to catch her. It was hard, since she was now the lumbering gimp and he was the petite female, but he managed to hold her up sufficiently. "Forget something?" He teased, unhooking the cane from the end of the bed.

Grumbling, she snatched it off him and placed it down with the leg. Thankfully, she found she could walk. Satisfied with how it held her weight she started to walk, trying to drag House with her so they could talk about this properly. "Hey," he stilled her, "slow down, or you'll fall again."

She frowned, trying to work out why he was aiding her in anything. Then she realised. Any damage she did to him now would still be there when they switched back... Ah well. His reasoning may be faulty but at least he was protecting her, of sorts.

She had to concede that he knew his own body, so she did stop. "How do we do this?" She turned to him.

"Do what?" He feigned ignorance.

"This," she gestured between them. "You can't be me, and I can't be you."

"Well _obviously _you can't be me," he snorted, "you haven't been a _real _doctor in years and now you expect that you can get your diagnosis on like me? Please, Cuddy, be serious. And in terms of me being you..." He eyed his new body up and down. "It doesn't seem that hard. Observe: House, no! House, stop eyeing my rack. House, yes, I admit, I'm sleeping with the entire board!"

She swatted him, but launched into her own impersonation. "Oh look!" She crowed. "It's ten am! Means it's time for my nap, see you at three. But wait, where's my gameboy? Oi, black man, go break in somewhere and find it!"

"Take me now, House!" He said, making her voice husky.

"I need to chop off his arm because his pancreas is making his eyes pop out! And I wouldn't surprised if NASA calls you right about now telling you that your giant ass is blocking their satellites view of earth!" She countered, and House nodded, impressed.

Unfortunately for them, Wilson had just entered the room. "What the _hell _are you two doing?" He sputtered. Sure, they fought and bickered constantly, but they'd just both been struck by _lightening. _They could have _died. _And here they were, shouting about Cuddy's ass?

Were they _children? _

House and Cuddy exchanged a look. How were they going to explain this? "You see, Wilson," House started, and Cuddy instantly panicked. Whatever House now said, Wilson would think came out of her mouth.

"I was just thanking House," he continued, "for doing me on the desk yesterday. It felt _so _good."

Wilson nearly popped out of his skull.

_Oh yeah_, Cuddy thought, _this wasn't going to destroy her life, career and body at all. _


End file.
